Lauren is plenty successful by the time she hits her big 30. She's the CEO of her own company, ambitious and well-respected among her peers. She lives in a penthouse apartment with a view of lights and towers and she drives three different cars.
Lauren still feels unfulfilled when she comes home after a long day and the apartment is cold and empty, no one there to greet her. She hasn't dated anyone properly since she was 19; it's been a string of different people to keep her bed warm and they wouldn't last long before Lauren got bored with them.
Her parents want her to stop messing around and settle down and start her own family. But the thing is, people are mostly either intimidated by her success and her sometimes bossy demeanor and others just want to leech of everything she's worked so hard to create.
And lately, she has acquired a very particular taste and it's a bit of a curse.
It all started last summer with this new intern at work; a boy at barely 20 with glasses and floppy and sweet smile. He'd been cute. Something about him had drawn Lauren in and she'd taken him under her wing, teaching him valuable lessons—like how to work that cute mouth of his on her cock. Just thinking about the wet, gagging sounds he made and the way his glasses would fog up is still enough to get her off in the shower.
It all ended too soon when he went off to college, leaving Lauren with this newly developed need for someone young, fresh-faced she could take care about.
This all leads her to the decision to create a profile on a slightly sketchy website called sugardeals in hopes of finding what she's looking for. She puts up a nice picture of herself that her photograph enthusiast of a friend, Normani Kordei took—it's one where Lauren is wearing a curve-hugging red dress as she stands by the floor to ceiling windows of her living room, looking out at the city lights, a glass of wine in her hand.
Lauren thinks it's perfect; it reflects a lot of what she has to offer.
She's hopeful at first, but the hope quickly dwindles when her inbox overflows with older men—even though she specified that she is looking for someone younger—with tasteless, pervy comments and the younger crowd she finds on there doesn't pique her interest.
She's two weeks when she feels all she's accomplishing on this damn, disappointing site is wasting her time. She tells herself to give it another week before she deletes her account and find another solution. Towards the end of the week, she finds something that looks promising.
It's a girl.
Young—late teens perhaps—fresh faced, long black hair framing a pretty face.
If the picture didn't catch her attention, the description on her profile surely do.
Do you ever get the urge to do a million things at once? like at 11 pm you wanna travel to Africa and go bungee jumping and knit a sweater?
Lauren snorts. She wonders if this girl—Karla, she calls herself—was high when she wrote this. Lauren decides she doesn't care. She likes this. It's original. All the other profile descriptions were all essentially variations of the same thing
This girl, Karla, sounds funny and she's young and pretty.
Lauren takes a deep breath, excitement fluttering in her tummy and she shoots her a message.
I cant say I've ever had that feeling? But it sounds interesting. I would love to hear more.
She waits anxiously for a reply, but she doesn't receive a reply for days. She's extremely disappointed, she'd been sure she'd found what she'd been looking for but it appears that Karla hasn't used her profile in a while—understandably so, Lauren can imagine the kind of attention she got that probably drove her away.
The one day, nearly a week later, Lauren checks her inbox not exactly expecting much, but then she sees it, among the sea of dirty messages, is a message from Karla and her heart jumps in her throat.
She quickly opens it.
